* 200 articles. Two years. Whelk. The best of Upsideclown. Might be reprinted.


1 September 2003
Jamie doesn't know what to believe

Some people are so forthright about their beliefs. Evangelical Christians wearing their religion on their (not insubstantial) sleeves, driving us infidels to an early grave with their preachings on tolerance and harmony and Christian love (before posting jiffy bags of dog-shit to gays). They even repeat it to themselves, several times a week in some cases (and even in Latin - how's that going to help them remember?) Tony Blair will tell anyone who listens how he believes he's always right and always has been, and you can't say fairer than that. Even R Kelly tells us how he believes he can fly - though whether you should trust anyone who gets charged with abusing a minor and then releases an album called 'Chocolate Factory' is highly debatable. In fact, I'd suggest he takes a leap of faith and challenges his convictions, but that's just me.

But I can't go along with any of that. I see too much irrational thought in pretty much any religion to accept it as a cornerstone of my decision-making process. Take John 20:29 - 'Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed'. OK, I see their point - blind faith and all that - but given the amount of bullshit about the Creation and all that that the human mind has been able to debunk, why should we believe the scribblings of some old-school blokes with their own agendas? I'll happily be proven wrong about this when the day comes, but till then I'll happily trust my cynicism to see me through.

No, in the words of Jay Kay, I think it's time to found a new religion. Or maybe religion's not the right word - I don't want to be some David Koresh-type nutter going up in a big ball of flame. Let's just call it my own personal Creed (hold on - imagine having your own personal Apollo Creed, who could beat up all your enemies. That would be cool. Except that Ivan Drago killed him. Git.), and if you happen to agree with any of it then fine. I'm not going to go forcing it on anyone.

Let's start with the easy stuff. I believe in the application of reason, tolerance and compromise in order to understand and resolve conflict. That doesn't mean it will always work, because some bastard with a silly moustache and some crazy ideology doesn't always want to play ball. That's when you have to brush the love-and-peace nancies aside and kick some serious arse. Then watch them come round to your way of thinking. Heh heh.

I also believe that England is one of the best countries in the world. Now, admittedly there's a lot of reasons for disagreeing with this, most of which centres around a small percentage of the population who have to go and screw it all up for everyone else. So, next time they're in Faliraki or wherever they get farmed out too to enjoy sausage egg and chips in a slightly sunnier climate, lock them all up and arrange for a surprise earthquake to collapse the gaol. Simple. Thereby leaving us to enjoy pies, cricket, roundabouts, a thriving and diverse music scene, one of the highest levels of racial tolerance in the Western world, non-league football, the BBC, afternoon tea, pubs and drizzly September afternoons in peace.

[on a similar subject, I also believe that you should have to qualify for a passport by more than nationality alone. How many people are travelling with the blessing of our monarch, having their entry to a foreign country approved by royal charter, that besmirch our good name? No, I think the queen should have to personally stamp and sign each one. And if not, make me king. I'll do it.]

OK, how about something more - spiritual? Well, surprisingly, I do find myself believing in life after death. Only I don't see it like some of you others, this idea of eternal life in paradise. Imagine how long one hour can feel when you're bored or impatient. Now imagine an eternity. That's quite a bit longer. Think how quickly you tired of your radio-controlled car. How good was that? Pretty damn close to paradise at the time, wouldn't you say? We're always looking for the next step, we're never going to stay happy with anything for long - soon we'd be complaining about the temperature in heaven, or the food, or the robes or something.

No, I believe that the only life after death worth living is the memory of you living on in those that knew you. Some of that may pass on to other people they tell about you - children pointing to an old photo, asking 'who's that?' and being told wondrous, idealised stories about you as you were best remembered - but when the people that loved you have also gone, I believe your time is up. And I believe this is a good thing - who wants to see their world transformed a million times as you watch on, helpless?

And that's why I believe in living for today. Not to the detriment of anyone else - but in making the most of the time we get. Seeing the good in everything and everyone. If you love someone, tell them, because you might not get another chance. Hey, it's an ideology. It's allowed to be touchy-feely. Be grateful I'm not forcing us into a group hug.

Oh, and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.


This is the fucking archive

Current clown:

18 December 2003. George writes: This List

Most recent ten:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
11 December 2003. Dan writes: Spinning Jenny
8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
20 November 2003. Dan writes: Rights Management
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
(And alas we lost Neil, who last wrote Cockfosters)

Also by this clown:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
13 October 2003. Jamie writes: The Persistence of Memory
22 September 2003. Jamie writes: The Email Eunuch
1 September 2003. Jamie writes: Credo
11 August 2003. Jamie writes: Brad and Jennifer and Me
21 July 2003. Jamie writes: Interruption
30 June 2003. Jamie writes: Do you remember the first time?
12 June 2003. Jamie writes: Forthcoming Attractions
19 May 2003. Jamie writes: Stupid Mistake
28 April 2003. Jamie writes: Hoping and Praying
7 April 2003. Jamie writes: Strangers on a Plane
17 March 2003. Jamie writes: Q&A
24 February 2003. Jamie writes: Altered States
3 February 2003. Jamie writes: How to say goodbye
13 January 2003. Jamie writes: In A League Of Their Own
23 December 2002. Jamie writes: What's in a name?
2 December 2002. Jamie writes: Lies, Damned Lies and Spastics
11 November 2002. Jamie writes: Memoirs of a Gaysian: A Preface
21 October 2002. Jamie writes: Love is blindness
30 September 2002. Jamie writes: Time for bed
9 September 2002. Jamie writes: Angry Exchanges Can Be Puzzling [10]
19 August 2002. Jamie writes: High Speed
29 July 2002. Jamie writes: Firkin Hell
8 July 2002. Jamie writes: Do you, er... haiku?
13 June 2002. Jamie writes: Unnatural Porn Thrillers
20 May 2002. Jamie writes: The Triumphant Return of the Septic Fiveskins
25 April 2002. Jamie writes: Meeting People is Easy
4 April 2002. Jamie writes: I Want I Want I Want
7 March 2002. Jamie writes: The Player of Games
11 February 2002. Jamie writes: Fat Man Walking
17 January 2002. Jamie writes: Passive/Aggressive
3 January 2002. Jamie writes: Love (classified)
29 November 2001. Jamie writes: A Lil' Nite Muzak
5 November 2001. Jamie writes: Natural born liar
11 October 2001. Jamie writes: All I need
17 September 2001. Jamie writes: Postcards From The Edge (of the pool)
23 August 2001. Jamie writes: Class act
30 July 2001. Jamie writes: Ritchie Neville is dead
5 July 2001. Jamie writes: A Letter from God
11 June 2001. Jamie writes: "If it's in French, it must be deep"
17 May 2001. Jamie writes: Reportage
23 April 2001. Jamie writes: Show me the Logos
29 March 2001. Jamie writes: Sobering Thoughts
8 March 2001. Jamie writes: Stupid, Stupid, Stupid
8 February 2001. Jamie writes: Spent
15 January 2001. Jamie writes: Full to the brim
21 December 2000. Jamie writes: fuck xmas
27 November 2000. Jamie writes: Eye Candy
2 November 2000. Jamie writes: World-wide-web?
9 October 2000. Jamie writes: Kids' stuff
14 September 2000. Jamie writes: Scatological Warfare
21 August 2000. Jamie writes: I can't stand up (for falling clowns)
10 July 2000. Jamie writes: The Etymology of Greatness

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